Part 12 (1/2)
”From what I hear, Canso cannot be a safe place for you very long.
England and France are on the eve of war, and Cazeneau expects to get back Acadie--a thing that is very easy for him to do. But why do you wish to venture so near to Louisburg? Cazeneau will be there now; and it will be a very different place from what it would have been had you not saved Cazeneau from the wreck, and made him your enemy.”
”My dear Pere Michel,” said Claude, ”I will be candid with you. The reason why I wish to go in that direction is for the sake of being near to Mimi, and on account of the hope I have that I may rescue her.”
”Mimi! Rescue her!” exclaimed the priest, astonished, not at the young man's feelings towards Mimi, for those he had already discovered, but rather at the boldness of his plan,--”rescue her! Why how can you possibly hope for that, when she will be under the vigilant eye of Cazeneau?”
”I will hope it, at any rate,” said Claude. ”Besides, Cazeneau will not be vigilant, as he will not suspect that he is followed. His Indians will suspect nothing. I may be able, by means of my Indians, to entice her away, especially if you prepare her mind for my enterprise.”
The priest was struck by this, and did not have any argument against it; yet the project was evidently distasteful to him.
”It's madness,” said he. ”My poor boy, it may cost you your life.”
”Very well,” said Claude; ”let it go. I'd rather not live, if I can't have Mimi.”
The priest looked at him sadly and solemnly.
”My poor boy,” said he, ”has it gone so far as that with you?”
”As far as that--yes,” said Claude, ”and farther. Recollect I saved her life. It seems to me as if Heaven threw her in my way; and I'll not give her up without striking a blow. Think of that scoundrel Cazeneau. Think of the danger she is in while under his power. There is no hope for her if he once gets her in Louisbourg; the only hope for her is before she reaches that place; and the only one who can save her is myself. Are my Indians faithful for an enterprise of that kind?”
”I have already told you,” said the priest, ”that they would all lay down their lives for you. They will go wherever you lead. And now, my dear son,” continued the priest, ”I did not think that you would dream of an enterprise like this. But, since you have made the proposal, and since you are so earnest about it, why, I make no opposition. I say, come, in Heaven's name. Follow after us; and, if you can come up with us, and effect a communication with Mimi, do so.
Your Indians must be careful; and you will find that they can be trusted in a matter of this kind. If I see that you are coming up with us, and find any visitors from you, I will prepare Mimi for it.
But suppose you succeed in rescuing her,” added the priest; ”have you thought what you would do next?”
”No,” said Claude; ”nor do I intend to think about that. It will depend upon where I am. If I am near Canso, I shall go there, and trust to finding some fisherman; if not, I shall trust to my Indians to take us back through the woods to Annapolis. But there's one thing that you might do.”
”What?”
”Zac--is he on board the schooner, or ash.o.r.e?”
”The skipper?” said the priest. ”No. I have not seen him. I think he must be aboard the schooner. It is my intention to communicate with him before I leave this place.”
”Do so,” said Claude, eagerly; ”and see if you can't get him free, as you have managed for me; and if you can persuade him, or beg him for me, to sail around to Canso, and meet me there, all will be well.
That is the very thing we want. If he will only promise to go there, I will push on to Canso myself, at all hazards.”
The priest now prepared to go. A few more words were exchanged, after which Claude and Pere Michel embraced. The priest kissed him on both cheeks.
”Adieu, my dear son,” said he. ”I hope we may meet again.”
”Adieu, dear Pere Michel,” said Claude. ”I shall never forget your kindness.”
With this farewell the two separated; the priest went out, and the door was fastened again upon Claude.
For the remainder of that night, Claude did not sleep much. His mind was filled with the new prospect that the priest's message had opened before him. The thought of being free once more, and at the head of a band of devoted followers, on the track of Mimi, filled him with excitement. That he would be able to overtake the party of Cazeneau, he did not doubt; that he would be able to rescue Mimi, he felt confident. The revulsion from gloom and despondency to hope and joy was complete, and the buoyant nature of Claude made the transition an easy one. It was with difficulty that he could prevent himself from bursting forth into songs. But this would have been too dangerous, since it would have attracted the attention of the people of the house, and led them to suspect that the priest had spoken other words to him than those of absolution; or they might report this sudden change to Cazeneau, and thereby excite his suspicions.
The next day came. Claude knew that on this day Cazeneau and his party had left, for he overheard the people of the house speaking about it. According to their statements, the party had left at about four in the morning. This filled Claude with a fever of impatience, for he saw that this first day's march would put them a long way ahead, and make it difficult for him to catch up with them. But there was only one day, and he tried to comfort himself with the thought that he could travel faster than the others, and also that the priest and Mimi would both manage to r.e.t.a.r.d their progress, so as to allow him to catch up.
The day pa.s.sed thus, and evening came at last. Hour after hour went by. All the family retired, and the house was still. Claude then slowly, and carefully, and noiselessly removed the window from its place. Then he waited. The hours still pa.s.sed on. At last he know that it must be about midnight.